An Auspicious Beginning

An Auspicious Weekend: Part I

The death anniversary of Lama Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyal, who in the 17 century unified Himalayan valleys to form the country of Bhutan, is celebrated with a puja. Having expired while meditating at the Punakha Dzong, this grand temple, which also served as a fort many years ago, marks the site of the annual religious ritual. As Shabdrung is considered one of the most important figures in Bhutanese history, his death anniversary is a holiday. Taking advantage of the three day weekend, Heather and I joined other hospital volunteers and co-workers for a trip out of town that was marked with one auspicious event after another. First stop: the beautiful valley of Punakha.

Friends I had made while volunteering at the Punakha District Hospital joined us for dinner Thursday evening. While having a drink at the hotel bar (got to have something to do while waiting 2 hours for dinner to be prepared!) Phuentsho casually mentioned that perhaps service was a bit slow because the staff was preparing for His Majesty's entourage to arrive that night. I was ecstatic! While His Majesty would not be slumbering in the same hotel as I, it was rumored he would appear at the puja the following morning. Phuentsho promised to call me the next day with his estimated arrival time. (It's a small world here ... people know people who know people who have some key information!)

Despite the luxury of the hotel bed, complete with soft sheets and a feather pillow, it wasn't hard to get up early Friday morning. After my walk and seated meditation by the river, I quickly showered, applied my makeup, and threw on some sweatpants and a tank. With a few of my best kiras in hand, I marched downstairs to Reception and kindly requested the woman at the front desk please help me get dressed (this was the first time I was hoping to wear a proper kira without my Bhutanese girlfriends nearby to dress me in it!) She chose what she thought to be the best kira for the occasion, whisked me into the bathroom, and ten minutes later, I emerged in traditional Bhutanese dress donned with just the right touch. Having planned ahead, I presented her with a small token of thanks I had brought along, and then joined the others to depart for the puja.

Crowds of men in ghos and women in kiras walked along the roadside to reach the dzong. Robes of red swayed in the gentle breeze as monks circled the grounds. Step by step over the historic bridge we crossed the merging point of the Mo Chhu and Po Chhu (mother and father rivers) to reach the Punakha Dzong.

Pujas were being held within the sanctuaries of the dzong. I joined the local worshippers in circling the inner perimeter, paying respects to the manifestations of the Buddha and saying my own prayers to meet the intentions I had set that morning. This day I dedicated to a very special patient whose lifetime had just ended, a woman I came to care for deeply despite only connecting with her on this physical earth for a very short while ... for her soul to be resting peacefully, and for her children to have the strength to find light in every day.

Bhutanese continued into additional rooms of the dzong where special prayers were being held, while my Western friends and I were politely requested to wait in the outer courtyard. Spiritual energy was abundant as prayers were repeated over and over, until one by one, all worshippers assembled in the courtyard.

Snap!
Snap!
A head monk in orange robes had appeared at the outer doorway of the main sanctuary. Repeatedly a leather whip by the side of his body was cracked, the harsh sound bringing monks out from every corner of the dzong. One by one the monks filed into the prayer room, and silence came over the crowd. Officials reminded us (with special attention paid to the foreigners!) that photos were now prohibited, and I felt myself rising up on my toes in anticipation of the arrival of Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck, Fifth King of Bhutan.

His Majesty entered the courtyard, walked through the aisle created by the crowd of a few hundred Bhutanese and seven foreigners, and turned back around at the top of the stairs to briefly connect with his fellow worshippers. Stepping into the sanctuary now filled with Buddhist monks, cymbals clashed, bells were rung, and prayers had begun.


Pictured above: 1) Myself, Karma, Pema, Phuentsho, Heather, and Marija outside the entrance to the dzong, 2) Monks filing into the inner sanctuary

Next Up: Friday night through Saturday continued to turn over auspicious events as we drove through mud, hailstorms, and pushed a Bolero along a windy edge of a cliff!